It 's time to make an apple pie, but not today. Today I can not! Out of respect for the saint that I'm married. Out of respect for the sanctity of today, such as atro yesterday, must fast. Must fast to see if lactose is the enemy, has declared war and also wants to win. And then, as to flush out the enemy, enemy or suspect, the husband has to blow into a kind of small computer that counts things, (such things do not know!), and it should not eat flour, pasta, rice, potatoes, fruit, vegetables and legumes, only ham, meat and fish, oil no sauces, no nothing, then today, the apple pie I can not do. Because he, in front of an apple pie, would do this: the guard, cut a piece and eats it casually, carelessly, but with taste, and then casually another, then another, so to the end.
So, no! The apple pie will do it today, but tomorrow ...
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